Page 19 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

“You’re Seaborn.” Russo’s nostrils flared. “You don’t need quality shells. You need to do what you were made to do.”

“We don’t know how,” I said. “I’ve told you that before.”

He moved so fast. One moment he was at the table, the next his hand connected with Jina’s face, and she hit the wall hard, the back of her head slamming against the wood. She crumpled, sliding down to the floor, one hand pressed to her skull.

“No!” Anger ignited.

My hand found my dagger and I held it out, the tip leveled at Russo before I’d finished the thought. Find the hinge. Press. Twist. I had opened a thousand shells. I could open him the same way.

Russo’s eyes grew wider. “You are out of your mind if you think you’re escaping.”

“And you’re out of your mind if you think I can’t.”

One of his men grabbed for my wrist. I twisted before he caught me and the blade caught him across his stomach.

He stumbled back clutching himself, staring at his wound. Blood dripped to the floor and then he screamed, a sound I had never heard a person make. He clawed at his stomach like he could reach inside and pull out whatever was burning him.

I stared at what I had done. No. What the blade made from shell had done. I had known the oyster’s touch made them recoil as if burned. But sliced into flesh, it was something else entirely that spread and consumed from the inside out. The soldiers Mac had killed in the cavern came to mind. I had forgotten about them until now.

That half second of distraction was all Russo needed. His hand closed around my throat and the wall hit my back, his other hand crushing my wrist against the wood, the dagger still in my grip.

I gasped for air.

His nose was inches from mine, snarling. “What did you do to him, Seaborn? What’s that dagger made of?”

That word again.

“The same thing I’m going to do to you, but worse.”

He didn’t choke the life out of me, so I knew he wanted to keep me alive. To pry more pearls, of course. I didn’t know what he would do to me. But I had taken Agusto’s whip more times than I could count. Whatever Russo had in mind, I could handle it.

What I couldn’t handle was watching him hurt Jina again.

Russo tightened his grip, fingernails digging into my flesh. So hot and painful he could draw blood. Before he did, my fingers opened. The dagger dropped. Russo looked at it on the floor. Then at me.

I wasn’t about to let him see my blue blood if he dug harder. Being classified different from him was bad enough, mixing in the color of my blood wouldn’t be good.

“Ranis.” He didn’t raise his voice. “Take her dagger. Then throw them overboard.”

Ranis didn’t move. “Sir—”

“I said throw them.”

The bells rang, a deafening sound—frantic and urgent. Russo backed off me to cover his ears while I scrunched my shoulders and Jina curved into a ball.

Why did someone ring the bells?

Russo’s eyes moved to the ceiling. The ship lurched. He looked at me once more, giving me a look that said this isn’t finished—then took the stairs three at a time, his men scrambling after him. The screaming soldier lay dead on the floor, his skin blackened like a dying flame where I had sliced him, seeping like something poisoned from the inside out.

Ranis stood in the doorway, his mouth fell open. “Just… stay here.”

I rushed to Jina, helping her up. She groaned, one hand pressed to the back of her head. Her fingers came away with no blood. Good! I took her face in my hands, checking her eyes. Both focused.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. Stay here. You’ll be safe.”